A little snail went across the sea... (Russian folk saying)
Rain was tapping on the garden leaves. Peonies and roses hung their heads sadly, dropping delicate petals under the blows of cold drops. Several snails huddled together under a large burdock leaf.
Mum, why are we called grape snails when we live here in the Moscow region, where grapes have never grown?.. Where it's so cold…
The smallest of the snails whispered desperately.
You know, daughter, our ancestors lived on the shore of a warm southern sea, but their own carelessness brought them to these harsh lands. Foolish snails crawled into a box of ripe and juicy grapes – they knew they shouldn't do it, that the law of nature commands them to be content with berries in the garden and not take what humans have picked... But the temptation was so great! So many berries lay in the box left on the ground – ripe, fragrant... The snails thought they would just taste them a little and crawl away. But it was so delicious, the berries called to them, wouldn't let them go... Our ancestors didn't notice how the lid slammed shut and the box was carried away to who knows where.
Her mother answered sadly.
And we should be grateful that they managed to get into this garden. Of course, there's no grape here, but still we can somehow get by.
The eldest daughter of the snail mother finished her speech in a didactic tone.
Yes…
The youngest moved her antennae sadly, and suddenly her eyes sparkled mischievously – but surely it's possible to return?! She perked up and, delighted by the suddenly appearing happy thought, almost cried out
Mum! Sisters, brothers! Let's go back! After all, there is such a wonderful country in the world where our ancestors lived! Let's go there!
A little snail went across the sea…
The elder sister smirked, and the mother said sadly:
Little snail, think about how far that is! You can't even imagine such a distance!..
The little snail said nothing. She hid in her shell and began to think hard. ...Of course, to the sea is probably very far. But there, precisely there, in the sunny south is her place! There is the place of all grape snails, who by bitter misunderstanding ended up in these harsh lands. And if she walks for a long, long time – it doesn't matter how long – she will get there, where her soul so yearns and flies!
The next morning, waking up early, the Snail set off on her journey. She remembered that south is the direction where trees show their side without moss. Our heroine also knew some other signs by which all forest and garden dwellers know how to find their way.
… What a wonderful sweet! It lies quite close – about three metres away. Half an hour to crawl! Well, so what... It's not so bad to have to deviate from the path. We'll make up for it later.
Oh, another sweet! What should I do? This way I could waste a whole day for nothing... Maybe I shouldn't go for it?.. Oh, why, why is it that right now, right from this sweet, I have to refuse?! How much I want to try it! No, this won't do. If I force myself not to eat this sweet – the snail decided – my mood will be ruined. And in a bad mood I won't be able to crawl far!
Good sweets they were! Five of them altogether. Now – on the road! No more deviations.
That's what she is – the Snail – a heroic traveller! Already almost twenty minutes crawling strictly south! How many tens of centimetres covered? Or metres...
But what is this?!. Oh horror! A rocky ridge! Fifty centimetres high! – The snail scrambled up the first stone. Sharp! Hard! Br-r-r! The second is even sharper. The third... And how many ahead?.. No, this is unbearable!
The snail didn't notice how she ended up on the ground. She can't overcome this mountain! Theoretically, of course, it's possible – if you keep climbing up, ignoring that it's hard and slippery and prickly... But... No, this isn't for her! After all, is it really necessary to go so strictly south? You could go along the rocky ridge – maybe you'll get where you need to...
An hour, two, three passes on the road... Evening comes... It gets dark...
Hey, Snail! Where have you been all day?
Rosanna, what are you doing here?!
Seeing her elder sister, our acquaintance almost lost her pearlescent home in amazement.
What do you mean where?! Look around, where are you?
Her sister was no less confused.
Oh... I thought I was going south... I just didn't want to climb the wall...
The snail recognised the familiar peonies and roses with horror. There was the snails' home – the large dark-green burdock...
For three days her brothers and sisters laughed at the unfortunate traveller. And she sat, huddled in her shell and didn't even want to eat the treats that her caring mother brought her. She didn't want to, she was being fussy, but she ate anyway – she couldn't starve! And mother knows what to bring – such flowers and berries that it's simply impossible to refuse.
Poor Snail couldn't understand how it happened that she wanted to go to a high and beautiful goal, but in reality she was crawling senselessly between tasty sweets and sharp stones.
Time passed. Our acquaintance grew up, became more serious and wiser. The dream of the sunny south – the coveted homeland of grape snails – never left her.
With the thought of the failed journey, the Snail learned to overcome obstacles. One day she decided to climb a large ribbed stone next to which their burdock grew. She climbed for four hours, scraped her whole foot, but accomplished what she set out to do. Then she lay in bed for two days, receiving her mother's tender care and waving off her sisters' mockery.
Do you want to go south? Do you really want to? Or are you just revelling in this dream, rising above other snails with its help?
One day her mother asked the Snail seriously.
Mum!.. Mummy!.. I don't know... I only think about this, I don't want anything else... But maybe it's just a childhood dream... After all, I probably can't even reach the edge of the village. I'm so slow... And I don't know how to overcome obstacles at all... But the thought of the south seems to me the main thing in life, its purpose and meaning!
Our acquaintance was taken aback.
...I wonder how far she's already gone?.. The rocky ridge is nowhere to be seen... Probably people took it apart. But what is this? – The snail stopped on the shore of a large puddle. How to cross it? No ford, no way around... Feeling sorry for herself, the snail sat down on a leaf at the edge of the murky water. The sun peeped out from behind the clouds. It started to get warm... And it's not so bad here! Oh, what berries! – A blackcurrant bush grows right at the edge of the water. Maybe this is the sea?.. And the currants are grapes... Well, so what if the berries are small! But they're sweet! Better currants by the shell than grapes beyond the mountain...
After eating the berries, the Snail settled down to rest under the currant bush. The thought of settling here pleased her more and more. For the rest of the day the snail basked, warming herself in the sun and lazily wondering whether she should continue her journey.
In the evening it got cold again, and the damp rain that had become familiar that year started up again...
Quite wet and chilled by morning, our acquaintance was already ashamed of her inconstancy, which had made her take the first respite given to strengthen her on a difficult journey for its final goal.
She went around the puddle, spending three whole days on it. Then she had to overcome a clay embankment towering above the tops of the tallest sedge... After crossing it, the Snail almost fell into an abyss filled with murky water, called a ditch by people. It was then that our traveller realised the horror of her position: behind – an almost impassable wall, ahead – a ditch threatening to drown her.
What to do? The snail hadn't even had time to really get scared – when something completely incredible began to happen around her: loud splashes, banging, squelching sounds, and, appearing from somewhere above, some huge object of indefinite shape began to fall on her.
At the risk of falling into the water, the Snail crawled to the side as fast as she could, hurrying to take shelter from the danger. The terrible black mass was getting closer, descending right over her head... Lord, have mercy! ...The terrible object landed a fraction of a millimetre from the snail, who didn't notice how she ended up on the clay stuck to it and rose with it into the air above the ditch.
By the clay lumps constantly breaking off into the water, the Snail began to clamber towards the middle of the terrible object on which she had so suddenly found herself. So... A little more... "It's a person!" – raising her head, the Snail saw that she was sitting on a rubber boot of a boy who, nimbly stepping over the ditch, was heading towards the exit from the garden.
"And how do I get down from here now?" – wondered our traveller. However, the person seems to be going in the direction we need... All is in God's will... Having landed on the boot, the Snail had already crossed the terrible ditch and been carried across a distance that would have taken her two weeks to overcome on her own... Let's see what happens next.
And next was the crossing of the highway, which struck poor Snail with indescribable thunder and the flickering of huge monsters that defied description. Our acquaintance didn't know whether to be horrified, thrown by fate into such terrible places, or to rejoice that God's Providence was carrying her across obstacles she couldn't overcome on her own.
Sometimes squeezing her eyes shut tightly, sometimes opening them wide, huddled into a ball, the Snail (it seemed to her that even her shell had shrivelled), kept whispering to herself: "Glory to Thee, O Lord! How Thou carriest me – I do not know, but where – I believe... I believe that Thou wilt bring me where I myself could not go..."
And the boy kept walking and walking. Now he was level with tall iron pillars, above which some kind of semi-transparent canopy was visible... "Oh-oh-oh!" – the boy suddenly swung and ...kicked a bottle lying near the bus stop. From the impact the snail fell off the boot and, turning over in the air, flew off in an unknown direction. She landed in someone's ladies' handbag.
What will happen now?.. The Snail was already so tired of thinking, worrying and absorbing new impressions that, finding herself in a dark bag, lying on something soft, she cast off the troubling thoughts that had been bothering her and, having prayed: "Lord, into Thy hands I commit myself entirely!", sank into sleep.
After sleeping for quite a while, she woke up in complete darkness. Somewhere nearby there was an incomprehensible rumble and growling. Hearing them, our traveller squeezed her eyes shut tightly and began to pray again... again didn't notice how she fell asleep... In her sleep she dreamed that everything around was swaying, abrupt words sounded: "flight 11-20... boarding... passengers...".
The Snail didn't wake up.
A hot sunny ray, playing, peeped into the opening of the bag, tickled the snail huddled in her shell home. She moved her antennae in bewilderment and crawled towards the exit from her shelter – towards the gentle ray. "Lord, what will be there, up above? What awaits me?" (The Snail didn't notice that she had completely forgotten how to simply think and worry – she constantly turned to the Lord). Now she had reached the opening...
Bright light and fresh air, filled with previously unknown aromas, overwhelmed our traveller. The sound of the surf could be heard, the chirping of birds... The path along which the lady who had become the Snail's travelling companion walked slowly wound along vineyards laid out on the gentle slope of a mountain... Seeing golden bunches ripening under the southern sun, our heroine decisively pushed off from the handbag and rolled head over heels into the grass.
An hour later she was already sitting on a grape leaf and telling the snails gathered from all around about the misadventures of several generations of their relatives and about the great mercy of God shown to the Snail on her difficult journey...
